It’s pretty simple, really. I learned all 87 rules in the NHL 2009 – 2010 rulebook in 107 days leading up to the Winter Olympics on February 12, 2010. Since then I've covered the entire IIHF Rulebook and I'm now up to the NHLPA's Collective Bargaining Agreement. Sure, I tried finding non-hockey related hobbies, but it's hard to find book clubs that want to read every hockey book ever written.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

The distraction: Great Big Sea at the Oregon Zoo. Elephants, Celtic rock music from Canada and overcooked hot dogs. Oh, and sizzlin' hot bassist Murray Foster. What's not to like?

It's not the regular season, but I can see it from here: The 2011 Winter Classic venue has been unveiled, cutie pie Danish forward Peter Regin has reached a contractual agreement with the Ottawa Senators, and the Portland Winterhawks' pre-season is a little less than 2 months away. Funny how so many of those arbitration thingies are ending in multi-million dollar deals. Also, tall, blonde cutie pies on the loose in Ottawa + Winter Classic in the Stanley Cup Champions' hometown = note to self: request winter vacation at work NOW.

OOOhhhhhh and there's this: The Portland Winterhawks just announced that Sept. 28 marks the first regular season home game against the Vancouver Giants. Originally we were going to have to wait until Oct. 2nd for a home game. What a difference 4 days makes.

But just in case you'd rather wait four days: Oct. 2 is still bobblehead night. And you still can't pet my Nino bobblehead. It's mine, all mine. Get your own.

EEEEEWWWWW: Doesn't this rule belong in a medical textbook? 571.a: A player bleeding or covered by the blood of any player shall be considered as an injured player and shall leave the ice for treatment and/or cleaning. If he does not comply with this regulation he shall be assessed a minor penalty. Such player shall be permitted to return to the ice provided that 1) The cut is completely closed and sealed with appropriate bandages. 2) Any blood is removed from the player and his equipment and uniform replaced or properly cleaned. If the ice surface or any objects are stained with blood, the Referee shalle ensure that the bloodstains are removed by rink personnel after the first stoppage of play.

Morals of the story:

The game: I would not want to be the "rink personnel" charged with cleaning up the after-effects of a bench-clearing, covering another player with your blood, game misconduct line brawl. Now, I love a good fight and I personally believe that it's not really a game until somebody bleeds or leaves on a stretcher, but I would not want to be in charge of cleaning duties. It's kind of like throwing out garbage: we want to get rid of it but we don't want to smell it, see it or sanction a landfill full of it anywhere near our neighborhood.

Life: How come we don't have to leave the workplace when we become injured or ill? "Presenteeism" is a huge problem in corporate America, whereby either because they don't want to burn through precious vacation time being sick or some boss insists they show up whilst bleeding out their eyeballs, employees show up for work even if they're carrying the viral plague. But what if we had this rule for work? And you couldn't come back until you went home and purged the cooties, injury, personal issue, whatever? Think of all that swine flu panic that could have been prevented. Or all the millions of dollars companies could save if they just respected that human beings are after all human, and they forced people to stay home while unhealthy. It blows the mind, really.

About Me

I’m Samantha and I’m a hockey addict. It wasn’t always this way. Until I was 12, I’d never even seen a hockey game. I grew up in Arizona, before the Phoenix Coyotes, in the pre-historic era known as the seventies. Enter the eighties, which coincided with the sports event of the century. On February 22, 1980, the United States men’s hockey team defeated the Russians. I was a pre-teen, oblivious to what that game meant, until it interfered in my ability to hang out at the mall. My father had agreed to chauffeur me…after he was done watching the game. I stomped to my room in rebellion. But somewhere in the first period the yelling and stomping overpowered my REO Speedwagon record. So, I relented and the rest is history. As we approach the 30th anniversary of that victory, I have shamefully come to realize I love a game to which I don’t know the rules. 30 years and I don’t even know what a hat trick is -- unacceptable. That, fellow hockey nerds, is coming to an end with this blog.